G'night Aya
by HeatherR
Summary: Anything I say here will give it away. A slightly amusing oneshot. Please enjoy!


Warning: Rated T for one naughty word, may possibly make you laugh.

Disclaimer: Weiss belongs to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss; what I do I do out of love...and for my own amusement.

Author's Note: Another one shot. This one hot off the presses. I had the idea New Year's Eve, wrote it New Year's Day, and typed it and posted it today! Waa-hoo! With any luck it will at least slightly amuse you. Please enjoy!

**G'night Aya**

By HeatherR

Aya stepped cautiously into the small room and stared disdainfully at the many toys which littered the floor and book shelves. When his eyes settled on the tiny bed he snorted in derision and wondered, yet again, why this had to happen to him.

Away missions. He now knew for certain that he hated them and fervently hoped this would be both his first and his last.

Sighing heavily he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Treading carefully through the disarray he crossed the small space to the bed and paused to eye it wearily.

It was small. A child's bed. Aya stared menacingly at it for a moment, but the bed didn't react. Sighing again the tall red-head tossed down the pillow he'd brought with him and shook out the neatly folded blanket. Gingerly he sat on the bed, testing his weight against it before laying down with a wince and a pained grunt.

How such a simple mission could go so horrible wrong was anyone's guess, but it'd been off since it'd started. From the moment they'd left the Koneko Omi and Yohji had been bickering, and they hadn't stopped until the mission had started. If that wasn't bad enough throughout a four hour van ride, Ken had alternately sung along with the radio, told bad jokes, and worse yet taken to talking to **him**...about soccer.

Aya groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. The memory alone was enough to give him a headache. The movement caused his chest to twinge and he absently rubbed at the bandage under his t-shirt. How he'd managed to cut himself was still a mystery. He was just glad Master Shion wasn't there to see it

The wound wasn't bad, but it was deep enough for Omi to insist on stitches and painkillers. The former didn't bother him, but the later made him nauseous right before knocking him into a sleep too deep for comfort. The last time he'd taken them Omi had come into his room and changed the dressing on his wounds without him even stirring. Very troubling indeed.

And now they were in a stranger's house. Well, a Kriticker agent's house, but that hardly made Aya feel any safer.

They were assassins. They had enemies. It was ludicrous to make them leave their weapons in the garage with their gear. It's not as if they'd take them out and brandish them in front of the agent's wife and four year old. And what was Kriticker thinking, sending them on an away mission to a town where the only safe-house was being fumigated? He should've stayed with the van.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Before he could invite the knocker in, or rather tell them to go away, the door opened. Ken stood there in his boxers and a t-shirt.

"Hey, Aya. How ya doin'?"

"Fine," the red-head answered staring pointedly at the ceiling.

"Manx called. The van is at the garage," Ken said not taking the hint and leaning casually against the door frame. "They said the gas tank can be done by tomorrow, but the doors have to be special ordered."

"Hn. How long?"

"Three days, maybe four. Manx says she'll send a car for us tomorrow morning and have the van picked up once it's done."

"Aa."

The guards hadn't hit any of them, which Aya was still trying to decide whether to be grateful for or not, but their van hadn't faired well at all. How they'd managed to drive it away from the scene was another mystery, as well as a minor miracle.

A movement by the door reminded Aya that Ken was still there.

"What?" he demanded as Ken stepped all the way into the room. Aya took note of his pillow and blanket.

"Shove over. I'm sleepin' with you,"Ken said shutting the door.

"What?"

"I said..."

"No."

"Aya..."

"**No**."

Ken pouted at him.

"We drew straws. You got the couch," Aya stated.

"I can't sleep on it. All the springs are broken and they're pokin' me in the back. And the kitchen light shines right on it and agent 79 won't let me shut it off," Ken whined.

"Too bad."

"Aya..."

"Go sleep with Omi and Yohji then," the red-head growled. He was still pissed about the two of them scoring the guest room with its large double bed and private bathroom.

"Yohji snores and Omi kicks," Ken stated plaintively.

Aya paused to digest that morsel of information.

"Omi kicks?" he asked.

"Kicks," Ken nodded. "Hard. The last time I bunked with him I didn't get any sleep and I was covered in bruises in the mornin'."

Aya imagined Yohji unable to get a wink of sleep and being kicked all night, and found himself fighting a wicked little smile. He glared back up at Ken.

"Then sleep on the floor," he said fighting a yawn. The painkillers were starting to kick in.

"I tried."

"What! Ken, I haven't been in here all of ten minutes. How could you possibly have tried?"

"I was on the floor when Manx called," Ken said defensively. "I got a splitting headache. I think I'm allergic to whatever they use to clean."

Aya pressed his lips together to fight another wicked little smile.

"Ken, this bed is too small for me," Aya started.

"Roll over. We'll spoon up," Ken said decisively.

"I am **not** spooning with you," Aya stated with a glare.

"Come on, Aya. You owe me." When Aya's glare intensified Ken sighed, "I did kill **your** target."

"He was **our** target, and you fell into him and knocked him out the window."

"He's still dead 'n I did it."

"**Accidentally**," Aya spat.

"Hey, a kill's a kill."

The red-head didn't budge and his glare cranked up another notch. The temperature in the room got colder.

Ken was unperturbed.

"Come on. Be a pal," he pleaded.

Aya huffed and released a long suffering sigh. He'd come to realize that Ken wasn't about to give up, and if he didn't get his way he was fully prepared to make Aya's miserable existence even more miserable.

"Back to back. **No spooning**," he stated adding an imperious edge to his already frosty stare.

"Cool. Thanks, man," Ken grinned, happily waiting for Aya to roll over and face the wall before dropping his pillow into place. He lowered himself carefully onto the small bed. "Think it'll hold both of us?"

"Hn."

Ken laid down and wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable.

"Ken. Stop," Aya said then yawned.

"Sorry."

"Just. Go. To. Sleep."

"'K. G'night, Aya."

"Good night."

"Oh, man. This is just too good," Yohji chuckled the next morning.

He and Omi stood at the foot of the small bed containing Aya and Ken. The two assassins were still sound asleep, curled up together. Aya's cheek was pressed up against Ken's forehead. Their arms were folded over their chests and their feet, which stuck out from under the blankets, were neatly tangled up.

"Too bad they aren't holding one another," the tall blond commented as he sighted through the lense of the camera. The flash lit up the room.

"I'll never doubt Ken again," Omi said with a smile. "I wonder how he did it."

"You'll just have to ask him," Yohji replied as he took another picture.

Aya's brow furrowed as the flash went off.

"Uh-oh," Omi said.

"Hmm?" Yohji asked as he shot again.

Aya's eyes snapped open and took in the room at a glance. He focused immediately on Omi, Yohji, and the camera. His eyes narrowed and his face became a frozen snarl.

"Kudoh," he growled.

"Fuck!" Yohji cried, laterally passing the camera to Omi as he shout out of the room at top speed.

Aya was right behind him.

"**You're dead**!" he cried. "**Dead**!"

Omi listened to the sounds of two men crashing down a set of stairs followed by the startled scream of agent 79's wife. A man's voice began yelling incoherently above the fracas and was joined by the wailing of a small child.

Omi looked down at Ken who was stretching and yawning on the bed.

"Mornin'," Ken grinned.

"I can't believe it," Omi said shaking his head.

Ken's grin broadened.

"You did it. Even after you spent the entire ride here annoying the Hell out of him," Omi stated.

"Told ya. The key to Aya is having a logical answer to everyone of his arguments," Ken smiled. "You guys owe me 10,000 yen...each."

"Yeah, yeah," Omi said waving dismissively. "You'll get it."

He began strolling casually toward the door, ignoring the loud banging coming from agent 79's living room.

"I'll more than make it up in sales," he said off-handedly.

"Eh?" Ken asked sitting up.

Omi paused by the door and held up the camera. "You guys looked so cute!" he giggled. "How much do you think the fangirls will pay per shot?"

"Hey!" Ken yelled, his eyes going wide. He made a dive for the younger man just as Omi fled the room. "Omi! Gimme that camera!"

Persia looked down at the acquisitions form that lay innocently on his desk and frowned. Attached to it was a request for transfer and a psychological evaluation. His eyes traveled up to the woman in the fitted red suit standing before his desk.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Acquisition and transfer request from agent 79," Manx replied.

"And?"

Manx dropped a thick stack of papers on top of the acquisition and crossed her arms over her chest. "There's his report," she said.

"Sum it up for me, please," Persia stated.

"Weis stayed with him and his family after their last mission."

"And?"

Manx smirked.

"Apparently there was an incident which resulted in some property damage, several neighbors called the police who then needed to be handled, and his wife is considering suing for divorce siting psychological trauma. He's requested compensation for all damages and a transfer to another city where he's hoping they can start over," she explained.

Persia sighed, pulled the acquisition form out from under the report. He signed it and handed it to her just as she set another paper on his desk.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Abyssinian's requesting a transfer...again," Manx smirked.

"Denied."

"Yes, sir," Manx said.

She crossed the room quickly, her heals clicking on the polished floor.

"Manx," Persia said as she was about to reach the door.

She turned to face him.

"Don't send Weiss on anymore away missions."

"Yes, sir."

After she'd left Persia pinched his nose.

"I need a vacation," he muttered.

Author's Note: Well, there it is. Were you at least slightly amused? My husband laughed.

Anyway, I was hoping to have the sequel to 13th House ready to go for Christmas, and then New Year's, but I'm still writing. I'm nearing the end though. Phew! I've had to do massive rewrites which slowed me down, but I think it'll be better for it. I hope. Anyway, it is coming!

Thanks for reading and if you feel like it please review!


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